The hillside town was an hour’s drive from Bucharest. Müller, the advisor from Berlin, stood with three policemen outside Nadia Dumitru’s bedroom door. “She’s normally a light sleeper,” her father explained.

“Hmmm.” Müller knocked more forcefully, and heard nothing. “We need to go in. Mr. Dumitru, I advise you to stay outside.” Unfortunately, the worried father followed them in.

Moonlight streamed in through a large opened window to highlight what lay on the bed. The lower half of Nadia was there, a ragged wound at her waist with surprisingly little blood. Her upper half… was gone.

“Great God!” Matei cried out. Dimitru uttered a choking sob. Radu turned to the side and was sick.

“What vampire could have done this?” Toma said.

“Not the vampires we know,” said Müller, peering at the corpse. “Toma, go with Mr. Dimitru to the kitchen and bring back as much vinegar as you can. Matei, close and lock the window.”

“Vinegar…?” Toma didn’t understand.

“Hurry!” Müller barked.

He paced the room as they waited, keeping an eye not on the body but at the window.

Toma returned with a vinegar bottle, half full.

“That should be enough.” Müller unstoppered the bottle and splashed the vinegar on, in, and around the wound.

“What in God’s name…”

“It needs to return before sunup,” Müller explained. “Now it cannot. Put your stakes away, they’re no good here. Draw your guns.” They all turned to the window, waiting.

In a few minutes they could see a flying shape outlined in the moonlight, coming toward the window. Like a bird — no, a bat — but much larger. When it crashed through the window, they saw only a part of the horror at once: the leathery skin and wings, the taloned arms, the yellow eyes, the fangs. The tatters of skin and entrails dangling from the monster’s torso: the top half of what had been Nadia. Its screech of rage was a mix of human, beast, and insect.

Radu screamed and held a crucifix at arm’s length, which had no effect at all; the creature swooped in and tore a mouthful of flesh from his neck. He and his crucifix hit the floor together.

Müller fired multiple times, as did Toma and Matei. The creature turned to Müller briefly, the glowing yellow rings in its eyes fixated on his. He fired point blank in its chest. It roared again and a wing-flap struck him as it flew back out the window.

“I shot it many times. I didn’t miss!” Matei’s voice was hard to hear; their ears all rung from the close-in gunfire.

“I didn’t either,” Müller said. “We’ve done what we can. When the sun rises, it will not be able to rejoin, and will die.”

“What about Radu?”

“He is at rest. Men cannot be turned.”

“You know what that abomination was.”

Müller sighed. “A penanggalan. I’ve never seen a live one until today. I’d wager no one has, this far northwest. It shouldn’t be here.”